


Jigsaw

by often_adamanta



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-02-15
Updated: 2005-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-22 04:08:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/often_adamanta/pseuds/often_adamanta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Originally posted at livejournal <a href="http://often-adamanta.livejournal.com/53685.html">here</a>.</p></blockquote>





	Jigsaw

Elijah found him in the shower.

He was thumping his head repeatedly against the shower wall as the warm water fell on his back. Elijah stilled the motion with a light touch, dragging his hand over the stiff, wet bristles on the side of his head. Orlando turned his head where it rested against the wall to look at Elijah.

“That’s not helping,” Elijah scolded him gently. Orli sighed, but didn’t argue. Elijah’s thumb caressed Orli’s temple. Water ran down Elijah’s arm and dripped off his elbow onto the linoleum floor, swinging in time to his caress and marking a transparent line between them.

“Shower, yeah?” Orli managed a weak smile and Elijah smiled back, stepping away and leaving Orli to finish.

Orlando rested in the water for a moment, wishing it could rinse away the stress of the last couple days as well. Then he washed quickly, knowing that Elijah was waiting for him in the front room of the small trailer.

He dressed in denim and a white cotton shirt, easy and casual after a day spent in elf garb. The mirror flashed back dark eyes, and he stopped to stare because the image was Legolas’ evil twin, dark and odd, but even that thought was twisted. Orlando was real, and Legolas a curiously primped version of himself, not the other way around.

He turned and went to find Elijah, leaving that particular train of thought with his reflection.

Elijah was sitting on the tiny couch and reading over a script for the next day that would probably be rewritten twice before filming. Orli waited and fidgeted, shifting his hips, unsure until Elijah noticed him and grabbed his hand, pulling Orlando down into his lap, script forgotten.

The touch cracked the thin control Orli has had over his emotions. He buried his face in Elijah’s neck and gave in to the scared and overwhelmed feelings he’d tried to ignore. Elijah’s arm wrapped around his waist and held him close as he started shaking under the intensity. The other hand stroked his spine, up and down, seeking to calm and comfort.

The shoot was extensive and overwhelming and got to everyone eventually. They all had their outlets. Viggo used words and paint, Dom laughed it off and threw wild parties. There was always alcohol. Orlando had dancing, surfing and, when things were really bad, he had Elijah.

He worried, especially after the first time this happened, about what Elijah thought of him, acting so childish. He never asked. He swore once that it wouldn’t happen again, that he could take care of himself, wouldn’t let Elijah see him so reduced. But Elijah, with something otherworldly Orlando couldn’t figure out, always knew when to be there to catch him when he fell.

He fell in Elijah’s arms, safe, one hand stroking a pattern that slowly gave order to the chaos inside him.

Elijah didn’t really think about what was going on. He knew that people were delicate and eventually would break.

On the rare occasions when Orli broke apart, Elijah made sure that he was mended and whole again. Elijah carefully gathered the jigsawed pieces of his friend and reconstructed the beautiful picture that was Orlando.

\-----

Elijah wasn’t sure how long they sat like this, but eventually Orlando’s trembling and breathing slowed and he shifted out of Elijah’s lap to sit close, beside him on the couch, thighs pressed together.

“You want to talk about it?” Elijah asked softly and Orli sighed and ran a hand through the stiff Mohawk. He stares off into nothing for a long moment before responding.

“Sometimes I just feel like I can’t do anything right,” but Elijah has heard that one before, and there’s no conviction in Orli’s voice, so he waited.

“Harold died.” Orli whispered it and Elijah strained to hear. “He was a cat, lived near my house. I’ve been leaving tuna out for him in the mornings. But not in the evenings, cuz I knew he liked to hunt. Yesterday morning he didn’t show, but I didn’t think anything of it. Had a late night with the guys, right? But I’m driving down the road, and there he was, hit by a car. Dead.”

Orlando turned his face, a single tear sliding down a tanned check.

Elijah’s brain must have shorted out, because there’s not a synapse involved as Elijah tipped forward and licked the tear away. Elijah tasted salt and skin, and there’s a part of him wondering if this tear tastes different than all the fake ones he’s cried lately, but the only distinction worth noting is the taste of Orlando on his tongue.

Orli gaped at Elijah, eyes round with shock, but Elijah’s attention was on the small patch of skin still moist from his tongue, on the taste in his mouth. Elijah was not trying to manipulate or come on to him like so many others. He was just himself, sweet and beautiful and… and Orli moved in for his own taste.

Elijah’s eyes snapped up to Orli’s as their lips met, blue crashing into brown. Orlando has never been one to kiss with his eyes open, but he’s never felt this aware of another person, can’t break that connection as their lips exchanged first hesitant greetings.

Orli raised one elegant hand to trace the curves of Elijah’s face. Then, using all his self-control, Orli paused and retreated, silently offering Elijah the chance to refuse, to forget this moment, to leave.

Elijah answered by nuzzling the hand on his face, tongue flicking out to moisten red lips, eyes sliding closed in pleasure. Encouraged, Orli captured Elijah’s lips again, pressing harder, marveling at the texture. Orli swept the tip of his tongue across Elijah’s bottom lip, tasting, so good, again, and Elijah’s mouth opened and Orli fell inside, following the sharp outline of teeth before reaching past into wet heat. His free arm went around Elijah’s waist and Orlando shifted them so they’re lying on the couch, legs entangled, Elijah’s body stretched out beneath him. He ground his hips into the beautiful man below him, angling his head to reach into every corner of Elijah’s willing mouth.

Eventually Orlando drew back, gasping for breath, resting his forehead against Elijah’s. Orlando stared into Elijah’s eyes again and thought they must be blending, because except for a vibrant, thin ring, Elijah’s dilated eyes were the color his own.

Elijah, making good use of the brief respite, ran his hands up Orli’s sides, pulling the shirt with him, struggling as the fabric passed between them. His small fingers smoothed over every curve of skin in reach before settling on Orli’s nipple, kneading the flesh firmly. A sharp intake of breath and Orli attacked his mouth once more.

If Orli had given it any thought at all, he’d have assumed Elijah to be on top and in control, after the way Elijah took care of him, yes, but also because Elijah did everything with an air of confidence and competence, making it seem inevitable that Elijah be in control. Orlando took in the flush of Elijah’s skin, the twist of the solid body beneath him, and thanked any and everything that he’s allowed to see this fracture, see Elijah fracture beneath him, because of him.

He fought with Elijah’s shirt, slowed by Elijah’s fingers on the buttons of his jeans. Despite their combined enthusiasm, Orlando couldn’t help but feel that they weren’t making progress fast enough. Orlando lifted his body in a parody of a pushup so Elijah can remove his own shirt. While in the air, Orlando lined up their bodies, so when Elijah pulled him back down by the hips, Orli felt Elijah’s length through washed-thin denim, hard against his own.

“Lijah, God!” Orli called as Elijah moaned and arched back while Orli’s hands reveled in newly revealed skin, soft and pale. Orli nuzzled a perfect collarbone, licked up the smooth column of neck, found a gentle hollow behind an ear and nipped. Elijah gasped, tilting his head so that Orli could explore more fully, fingers reaching for Orli’s fly again.

“Need you, Orli.” His breath whispered across Orli’s skin as one button, then another, opened to questing fingers.

“Ah!” Fingers closed around Orli’s cock, blood and attention flowing there immediately, and Orli’s tactile inspection of Elijah’s shoulder blades had to wait. Freeing his hands, Orli tugged Elijah’s pants open and wrenched them down, baring Elijah’s body from sharp hipbones to upper thigh. Orli just stared a second at the delicious sight, Elijah’s erection rising from a bed of dark hair set off by pale skin. He ran a finger lightly up the length, smiling at the answering moan.

Orlando removed the hand still stroking his cock and caught Elijah’s eyes in a wicked gaze. Orli brought the small hand to his mouth and swallowed two fingers. Elijah felt every swirl of tongue on his fingers as Orli sucked, hard. Distracted, Elijah was unprepared for that first powerful thrust of Orlando’s erection against his.

“Too much,” he gasped, but Orli built a steady rhythm, and Elijah could do nothing but follow, arching back against Orlando. Elijah was so hard, every slide against Orli driving him closer to release, the sensation of Orli sucking off his fingers pulsing through him. A cry stuck in his throat as his body locked then released, hips raising him and Orli off the couch as he came. Elijah collapsed, shaking and sweaty.

Orli let Elijah’s fingers slip from his mouth and leaned down. “So beautiful…” he whispered against Elijah’s lips before kissing him firmly.

Elijah, fingers wet from Orli’s mouth, took Orlando’s still hard cock in hand and restarted the effective rhythm. His other hand clutched Orli’s waist, encouraging movement against his slick stomach. Elijah tried to wrap one leg around Orli to increase the pressure, but his legs were still held fast in his pants. He flicked his wrist, dragging fingers over sensitive flesh, and jerked Orli over the edge, watching Orli shatter and collapse, just as Elijah had moments before.

They lay entwined until their breathing slowed and their bodies cooled. Orli sacrificed his shirt for clean up, not wanting to rise for a towel.

Pants refastened but still half naked, Orli twisted so that they lay facing each other on their sides, Elijah wrapped up in Orli’s arms.

They were both numb and shattered, shards scattered like a puzzle in the silence between them, and Elijah knew he should try to piece them together again. But he didn’t know how the picture fit together, couldn’t imagine the final scene. So he rested in Orli’s arms and let them lie. They’d sort it out later, together. 

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at livejournal [here](http://often-adamanta.livejournal.com/53685.html).


End file.
